Look To Tomorrow
by EscapeToCity
Summary: Nightwing contemplates the people in his life. Slight slash, please read & review if you have the time


LOOK TO TOMORROW

By: EscapeToCity

Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me. They are the property of DC Comics, Time Warner, etc, etc…

Rating: R

Notes: Wow. I haven't written anything in so long. Hope this comes off alright…this story has some slashy elements…read it and let me know what you think of it, should you have the time…

Warmest regards,

JB at Horseshoe Bay

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

I am there and she's not far, past the window, down about six floors and her hair is kinda blowing and I want to call out to her but I can't because of this, that, yesterday, last year, six years ago, a bullet, my fears, her arrogance, stop. Damn.

Stop.

Dinah's there and I know she's OK so long as Canary's got her back. There's something off though, just a little unbalanced; Dinah's expression or maybe the humidity or maybe that other blonde laughing. I don't like the way their mouths are moving. There is a tightness in the corners there that shakes me because I have seen it before. There. Her. My room, the tower, before the bomb, after the circus, her holding my hand and trying to wipe the sweat off my forehead and me trembling and thinking of distant times, of the arena, mud, of San Francisco and death, dust, of falling and flying and gore and hitting the ground.

Roy thinks I am depressed.

He knows me. Too well. Inside in those places only Kory and Babs and Bruce and Alfred have seen. The torn places. The rips in the carefully constructed façade of control and power. Maybe I am a psychopath in training. Maybe I will follow Harvey Dent down a road to abomination someday. Maybe I will hide in the shadows the day Bruce slips and cracks his head open. I will rush to his aid just a second too late and my tears will mingle with his blood. Maybe I will just lie there and die with him. Sometimes he's all I can think about; he consumes me. I do not shy from drowning in his attention. It is so rare, so fleeting, I crave it like Venom.

Roy says that losing Lilith and Donna and the breakup with Barbara and the mess with Catalina…he says it's all got me fucked in the head. When no one is looking he holds me in the hidden places and tries to lift me somewhere other. He nuzzles me and makes these little moans like a newborn and it's new and unexpected and wild and exactly what I need. Jade nearly caught us and Roy was laughing and I don't know how he makes a joke out of the worst situations because honestly, I've never had much of a sense of humor.

But sometimes I need him and he's there and strong, stronger than me ironically, and I let him take control and I remember gangly little hyper Speedy who was so damned annoying and aloof and this big, swarthy guy is him, him in the now, today, and he tries to stop the weeping and the night sweats and the omnipresent fears.

I am wracked by my dreams.

The nights when Roy isn't there, when I don't trace the delicate scars of his chest and those in the crook of his arms; the nights when I curl up into and under the blankets, those nights I see her. Like I am seeing her now. No. The fiery tresses have vanished. The van is leaving; they are off to some other locale, three lady heroes off the save the world. Those verdant, lush eyes. Damn I love her. But I dream of her dying. Alone. Horrifying laughter in the foreground.

Maybe that's what destroyed our arrangement. Her feelings of inadequacy; my omens and portents of loss and pain. I make up conversations in my head with her; she's cooking or smiling and babbling about her father and the crime novel he is writing and I am bouncing around the kitchen just thrilled to be in her presence.

I hear a rustle behind me. Somewhere on the roof. I ready myself. I've must get back into my old fitness routine. I'm slower now. That's a lethal liability. My leg still drags. I should see Leslie about this--

"Nightwing."

It's him and I knew I couldn't avoid this, not in his City. Gotham is his addiction, his best friend, his lover. More than Silver or Vicki or Selina or Vesper ever could be.

"Batman."

Nothing. It's a normal night out on the town for him. I can tell he's completely in control. No Joker or Croc run-ins this evening. No Hush to fuck with his head.

"I just wanted to see her."

"I know."

"How have things been?"

"Fine."

"Alfred?"

"He misses you, of course."

"I miss him."

I know what he wants to say, what he desperately needs to say to me…'Are you alright, Dick?' but he cannot open up. Never. The emotional side of Bruce died that night in Crime Alley with his parents. His heart bled right out onto the pavement. I have always understood that. He does the best he can.

"Come by the Manor. Alfred would love to see you."

"I will."

He is gone and I am left with the City. The towers and lights and hazy air of summer. The sounds and buzz and flash and throb. I wish Kory were here. She could fly me away from all this. Maybe even way out there, to the stars themselves. But I don't think she and I will ever be that close again. Too much loss, too many memories. Plus, she always loved the buzz and the throb. She was a supermodel for Christ's sake. She was a child of light and needed to remain there. I dwell in the dimmer places.

I wish Roy were here, smelling like a cheap pool hall, playful and aroused and yet so tender. He could make me giggle and forget where I am and who I am and that you can't change yesterday, only look to tomorrow. He could keep me safe.

I will go by the Manor. Alfred will be there and I will relive my childhood, my teenage years; the delicious gravy dripping off a sumptuous roast; fabulous bread and fresh, crisp carrots; Alfred's warm and loving grin and he serves me a third helping…Bruce in the background, near the fire, relaxed, if only for an hour or five minutes, the slightest, content smile on his face watching us. A family.

I think about calling Wally but he's got so much to deal with. Keystone & Central aren't the easiest places to operate. He's got Linda. We have drifted lately…I hate that. But people change, tomorrow changes things, yesterday's gone. I hear Roy in my head. Somewhere I hear another voice, hidden, older…wiser & mournful… Raven? She helped me so many times in the past…

The night is getting deeper and the glow hurts my eyes. I look towards Gotham International and know the jet is leaving soon, with Barbara gliding off into her own destiny. I want to grab the plane, turn it around, guide it here beside me, pull her out of that goddamn chair and tell her I will always love her, always need her, always crave her with everything I am and ever will be. That I am never leaving, that Tarantula meant nothing, that Roy is saving me, that she is the beginning & the end, and that I will never hurt her again.

Maybe she already knows everything. She is the Oracle, after all.

I know that it's getting late and I want to check in with Tim and Cassandra and make sure they're OK.

I jump and let myself fall for a good while, the wind rushing up to meet me, the lights and stars and possibilities embracing me in motion…

END of 'Look To Tomorrow"


End file.
